Moon Shine Saloon
by sailormoon0630
Summary: Serenity Silvercrest is in a heap of trouble after shooting to death Big Diamond's little brother. It'll be up to the new sheriff, Darien Shields to keep her and the town of Crossroads Valley alive.


Disclaimer: I do not own Sailor Moon, nor do I have any rights to it or any specific "Western" genre story

Moon Shine Saloon

Chapter 1

Whoever named this old saloon "Moon Shine" had a flare for false advertising, but with Sammy being too ill they only had enough money left to buy the old saloon the way it was. Plus everyone from Cross Roads Valley knew the famous saloon , they didn't care if the place got a new name or not just as long as it's new owns had barrels of strong nasty-tasting whiskey. Though Samuel and Serenity Silvercrest owned the Moon Shine Saloon for 7 years now, they are still considered outsiders from the foals of Cross Roads Valley.

On a sultry summer night the saloon air was thick with tobacco smoke and the stink of spilled whiskey. Serenity Luna Silvercrest noticed everything and everyone who'd walked through the swinging doors that night that she hadn't judged, and filed away for future reference. So far none of the tinhorn gamblers, and horny cowboys, none of the traveling drummers or lonely ranchers or timed farmers meant trouble. She had learned to smell trouble over the years, but now as the wooden swinging doors opened ones more Serenity knew he was nothing BUT trouble!

This man was more trouble than Serenity had ever seen in her 24 years. She glanced around the crowded room for Sammy, but he was nowhere to be seen. He might be upstairs with Amy, one of the dancing girls, but she doubted it. Sammy hadn't been interested in much more than his bottle of whiskey and his cards for the last year. The lung sickness was getting worse and he was going to die. There wasn't a damned thing Serenity could do about it.

She let a grim smile curl her mouth, savoring even the mental use of the word damn. The odd thing about the stranger was that no one else seemed to notice him. Granted on a Saturday night the Moon Shine saloon was a bustling with activity, and everyone there was pretty well liquored up. Serenity's daddy had always told her that a man who couldn't hold his liquor was no gentleman. Serenity hadn't seen a gentleman since she'd come west.

He was a tall man, in a land of tall men. He wasn't burly like most whipcord lean, dressed in dark clothes his black hat still sitting low on his head. He was clean shaven but his black hair was a little long, she couldn't see his eyes. She didn't need to see his eyes. The other people in the Saloon might not know they had a rattlesnake in their midst, but Serenity couldn't afford to make mistakes. The man wore two guns, big and nasty, she expected he knew how to use them.

There was an ordinance in Cross Roads Valley that you weren't allowed to wear guns in the saloon: too much of a chance of someone acting foolish. If they had to wait to get their weapons there was always a good chance they'd have time to cool off; or at least sober up.

But the last sheriff had died badly, shot by an irate husband, and there was no one to enforce the law. No one to keep Big Diamond and his gang of cutthroats away from them if he decided to return to his childhood home outside of the Valley. No one to keep dangerous men from wearing their guns into Serenity's Silvercrest saloon. The man had a rare ability to blend in. He moved through the crowded room with an almost feral grace, and no one even glanced in his direction as he brushed past them. It was a rare gift, to be able to blend in like that. A dangerous gift. He was about ten feet away from her when he stopped. There were two tables and at least a dozen noisy men between them, but he looked up pushing the hat off his head to stare directly into her eyes. He'd known she'd been watching him. That realization hit her at the same time she looked into his eyes. She didn't know which was the more disturbing: the knowledge that he was just as observant as she was or his eyes themselves.

They weren't rattlesnake eyes; that much was certain. They were midnight blue with an intensity that seemed to reach out and grab her. She didn't let men touch her, though many tried. This man managed to get past her guard just by using his eyes. It was a hot summer night and she was sweltering in her tawdry satin dress. Her hair was in outrageous curls going down all the way to her ankles, but on the top of her head her hair was in two golden balls on both sides. Her makeup was starting to smear, but she'd been born a Silvercrest and no two-bit gunslinger was going to make her back down. That was what he was of course. Maybe not two-bit, but a gunslinger through and through. Serenity had seen enough to know one. She also knew not to let him get the upper hand. She moved through the crowd, putting a hand one man's shoulder, pushing past another, putting just the right amount of sashay in her hips as she approached the stranger. Her cool, welcoming smile curving her painted lips. A lady never used paint her mother told her, but her mother was dead. The money and the house and the land were gone. Serenity Silvercrest survived. She wore paint, lots of it. The more she wore the safer she felt.

She came right up to him, standing just close enough to show he didn't scare her. " You're new to Cross Roads Valley ," she said in her cool clear voice. As a conversational gambit it lacked something she'd learned that the men out west were totally devoid of subtlety. He watched her out of those dark eyes. "Yes ma'am" he said giving nothing away. "Well it's a nice enough place if you're looking to settle down, and if it's fun and relaxation you have in mind you can't beat the Moon Shine Saloon. The women are clean, the games are honest, and the whiskey isn't watered. Make yourself welcome Mr..." "** Shields**," he said. " Darien Endymion Shields." He glanced around the crowded room, seemingly at random, but Serenity suspected he didn't miss a thing. " You must be Serenity Silvercrest." She didn't let her surprise show. In fact she wasn't that shocked that he knew who she was. She'd already figured out he didn't miss much. So she simply nodded. " I own the place," she said. " You and your husband." It wasn't really a question, but she nodded again, the lie second nature to her by now. " And where would I find him?" " He's busy Mr. Shields. I'm certain I can help you." His eyes drifted over her, and she looked back unflinchingly. She didn't see the lust she got from drunken cowboys, or the practiced wiles of the gamblers. His look was veiled but the thorough and her discomfort grew. As did her determination not to show it. After a moment he nodded. "What's the going rate for the girls working here?" Just another horny cowboy, she thought contemptuously. "Slavery has been abolished, Mr. Shields. There was a war fought over that very issue a few years ago." "And I can tell which side you were on," he drawled. " You're from Selene Lake, aren't you? I recognize the accent." She thought she'd wiped away every bit of the creole softness in her voice. Sammy still spoke with a strong accent, particularly when he was drunk, and since that was most of the time most people knew he came from the South. They just assumed he'd picked up Serenity somewhere along the way west.

" A lifetime ago, Mr. Shields." "And the women? Don't tell me their company isn't for sale? Or should we say rent? " " You'll have to deal with them directly. They handle the arrangements themselves. But don't assume that they have no protection. My bartender seen to it that no one's allowed to hurt the girls, and the gets mighty riled if anyone tries." Andrew would be no match for Mr. Shields if he decided to practice to let potential customers know that the girls were looked out for. In a world too full of compromise, it was one thing she insisted on. No woman even marginally under her roof was going to be hurt.

He was looking at her again, with those far seeing eyes of his she found herself wishing she'd applied the rouge with a more lavish hand. She had to make do with attitude. Attitude Grandmere Luna had always told her was everything. " And just what do you charge for your time, Mrs. Serenity?" he asked. She was used it by now. Men thought that any woman who worked in a bar sold her body, and there was no reason this man should be any different. " I don't Mr. Shields. I'm not for sale. My husband wouldn't approve." As a matter of fact Sammy Silvercrest probably wouldn't notice, but Mr. Shields wouldn't know that until he met him.

" Would you have a drink with me then?" He didn't look the slightest bit chagrined, as if he'd known the answer all along. She should tell him no. She seldom drank with the customers she simply moved through the crowds, exerting a civilizing influence while she made sure no one got too drunk too rough, too out of control. " Why?" His smile was slow and wicked. " Because I expect you don't drink with many of the customers, and I'd like it known that I'm no ordinary newcomer to town." " You care that much what others think of you?" " It can be useful." " And why aren't you an ordinary newcomer to Cross Roads?" " I'm the new sheriff." It stopped her cold, but only for a moment. " You don't look like a lawman," she said flatly. " What do I look like? " " A gunslinger." " They're often the same thing. It just depends who's paying their salary." She nodded. " You drink whiskey or beer?" " Whatever you're having." What she'd be having was a glass of dark amber liquid from her own private bottle. Cold tea strong as sin and twice as nasty, no one ever knew the difference. "Whiskey it is." she said. " Come with me." The others were beginning to take notice of the newcomer. By the time she sat down with him at the table in the corner, most everyone there had looked him over and made their own judgment. Serenity was willing to bet most of them underestimated him. She had no interest in making the same mistake.

He held the chair for her. Even Sammy had gotten out of the habit of those particular courtesies, and she could have wished the new sheriff wasn't adept at them. She gave him her cool practiced smile before taking a healthy drink of her tea. " Aren't you going to ask why I'm here Mrs, Serenity?" he said after a moment, leaning back in the wooden chair. He was a man who far too comfortable in his body, lounging gracefully opposite her as if certain he had everything under his control. He probably did she thought dismally. "You told me you're the new sheriff." "The town council hires one every now and then, they hang around trying to keep the peace until someone shoots them or they get a better offer and move on. Which one will it be with you Mr. Shields?"

"Just call me Shields," he drawled. "And I don't intend to get shot." "Are you going to settle down then? Find a good woman and get married, raise a family?" The faint lilt of mockery was so slight most men wouldn't have noticed it. Shields wasn't most men. "No ma'am. Not here. I've come to do a job, and when it's done I'll be moving on." "Sounds about typical," she said leaning back and trying to match his lazy grace. She was so tightly corsetted it was hard to be relaxed, but she made the effort. "What makes you think your job will get done?" "I'm here to kill Big Diamond Negamoon." So much for trying to appear at ease. The very name of Cross Roads home grown monster was enough to put starch in her backbone. "What makes you think he's going to show up here? He hasn't been home for a couple of years."

"And he killed three men and a woman when he was here last." "Yes." she said flatly. The woman had been Emerald, one of the older girls who had worked the saloon. She was Big Diamond's favorite whore, till he got tired of her voice. Every time Serenity thought about what Diamond had done to her she wanted to vomit. "A lot of men have tried to kill Big Diamond," she said in a deceptively casual voice. "Yeah," he replied. "But they are not me." There was no arrogance is his voice, just the flat statement of truth. And she found she believed him. If anyone had a chance against Diamond Negamoon's vicious speed with a gun, it would be a man like Shields. Unfortunately she didn't believe that anyone had a chance. "Let's hope for your sake that Big Diamond doesn't suddenly get homesick," taking another drink of her tea matching his whiskey intake. "You're too young to die." His smile was slow, mocking thought she couldn't be sure whether he was mocking her or himself. "Trust me ma'am," he drawled. "I'm not."

She looked into his eyes. Midnight eyes that had looked into the face of hell and hadn't flinched. They were bleak eyes, but beneath the chill there was banked heat that seemed directed straight at her. It was probably another one of his little talents. An ability to make every woman feel wanted, needed, special. She didn't want to be wanted. Too many people needed too much from her, and she mortally tired of it. But she couldn't keep from looking into his eyes, and she wanted to move closer. She wanted to touch him.

The shouts ripped her attention away from him. A fight had broken out in one corner of the barrooms, between Joe Gunner and one of Maxfield Stanton's cowboys. Both of them were wearing their guns! Serenity surged to her feet, cursing her inattentiveness. She was usually able to stop things before they got this far, before two drunks were staring each other down., getting ready to draw their guns. But she been too busy looking into Shields pretty eyes to pay attention to her job, and now someone might die! She started forward only to have an arm shoot out in front of her, barring her way. Shields pushed her back into her chair with a rough lack of ceremony, then crossed the saloon to move directly between the two combatants. She didn't like being shoved! She didn't like being out of control in her own place of business and she didn't like the ease with which Shields calmed the volatile situation. Joe Gunner sat back down shaking his head, and the cowboy stumbled drunkenly out the door. Muttering underneath his breath. A moment later everything was back to normal for Saturday night and Shields was temporarily forgotten by everyone in the bar but Serenity Silvercrest.

She glared up at him as he approached her. "I don't like being manhandled," she said in a chilly voice. "And I can take care of trouble in my own saloon." "Seems like you were about to miss your chance, Mrs. Silvercrest" he said slowly. "Another half a minute and you'd have had some nasty bloodstains on your floor." "It wouldn't be the first time," she muttered. "No I suppose not." He spun the chair around and straddled it, picking up his whiskey and downing it before looking at her. "And I don't make a practice of pushing women around. But if it's going to save your life I can shove with the best of them." "My life wasn't in danger." "It would have been if you'd stepped in the middle of a gunfight. Or do you think they would have been gentlemanly enough to listen to your sweet reason and drop their guns?" " What did you so to stop them?" she asked, belatedly curious. " I told them I'd cut off their balls feed them to the hogs if they made a scene in Mrs. Silvercrest's presence." "How ... charming," she said faintly. "Not very, but it worked." "What about when Joe leaves? Won't the cowboy be waiting for him?" "I doubt it. If he is, he'll probably have passed out." " Leaving Joe a clear shot." "Is he someone who'd murder an unconscious drunk? He didn't strike me as that kind of man." She glowered at him. He was absolutely right, of course. All both of them needed was some cooling-off time. And she would have seen they'd gotten, it if she'd been paying attention and not been distracted by a pair of midnight eyes.

"Touch me again," she said in an even voice "and Andrew will shoot your hand off." He didn't even blink. "Who's Andrew? Your husband?" "The bartender. He's got a gun under the counter and he knows how to use it. One sign from me and you're out of a job. There's not much call for a one handed gunslinger, now is there?" She was wasting her time trying to intimidate him, and she knew it. "Andrew takes good care of you," he said. "Protects your virtue and keeps you supplied with cold tea. Do all the girls here drink tea while their customers get drunk?" "It's their choice," Serenity said coldly. "Their choice? They set their own price, they decide the rules? You aren't like any other madam I've run across, and this sure is a strange whorehouse." She didn't dispute the name he called her. He'd said it with a certain amount of admiration, and that was what she wanted him to think. "As I said slavery was abolished. I'm not going to tell them what they can or can't do. They have to make a living the same as the rest of us, and it's up to them how they want to do it. I'm just not going to let anyone hurt them." " Neither am I." Shields said soberly. And then he smiled slowly. "Just part of my job Mrs. Silvercrest."

She didn't like the way his slow, deep voice lingered over the Missus part of her name. He knew her whiskey was tea, he knew who she was and that she'd been watching him. Just how observant was he? "It's nice to see a man devoted to his work." she said sweetly. "I always put my best effort into anything I set out to do," he said. There was no reason why those simple works should have sounded so dangerous. He hadn't leered at her, hadn't touched her except to shove her down in the chair. His asking her her price wasn't even necessarily a sign of interest, he might have been simply curious. Yet she knew, with an instinct she hadn't even known she possessed, she knew he wanted her.

Not this time though she reminded herself. There wasn't much she could protect from this wild land, not her gentility or her looks or her dignity. But she could protect that basic core inside her, the center of Serenity Luna Silivercrest. And no man no matter how dark his eyes, no matter how enticing his mouth, no matter how elegant his strong hands, could ever, ever touch it. She rose and he rose with her. There was no practiced politeness about the gesture, he moved with an instinctive grace that she'd never seen before. "I'd better get back to work. Welcome to Cross Roads Valley Mr. Shields. I hope you make it out alive." He smiled down at her, a slow lazy smile that made her stomach do odd things. "I intend to Mrs. Silvercrest. I purely intend to." And he took her small, strong hand in his and kissed it.

* * *

Comments are appreciated. I finally have my first story up after so many years! Come back for Chapter 2 a little later (hopefully it won't take as long as chapter 1)


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